


The only Exception

by That_one_transguy



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cliffhanger, Domestic, M/M, Mentions the Them, hints of sex, proposal, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_one_transguy/pseuds/That_one_transguy
Summary: What if Aziraphale and Crowley lived in a cabin together and loved each other? Ha ha, unless.....It's just a domestic self-indulgent mess.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	The only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for a while, I started working on it months ago, but here we go :) Please comment if you like it and if you don't like it, let me know how I can improve.

The early morning light filtered through Aziraphale’s slatted blinds in his miracled room, small particles of dust dancing above the still sleeping angel and his demon. Both naked as newborns and their legs intertwined with only a thin white sheet carelessly thrown over their middles. This, Crowley thought, as he woke slowly, was heaven. Not the cold, distant place with cold, distant smiles made by Archangels that would not know true happiness if it bit them in the arse- no, that wasn’t heaven. Though, Crowley would never say it aloud- Aziraphale already ruined any reputation he might’ve had, he wouldn’t let him know how much these mornings meant to him.  
Crowley sighed contently and let his eyes slowly open basking in the sight. Aziraphale so rarely slept that it felt like a privilege to see him like this- his mouth slightly open, eyes closed and gentle snores. Crowley thought he never looked more angelic- especially in the early morning when the sun caught the angel’s near-white hair and created a makeshift halo. This was something he had told the angel, only to hear him scoff because ‘angels don’t have halos, Crowley.’ He didn’t mind, though. He’d just consume the sight like a starving man.  
The angel was making him soft, he decided as he carefully pulled himself from said angel’s grip. He didn’t bother with modesty- it was only the two of them and they’d already seen every inch there was- just padded to the bathroom he knew Aziraphale only kept for appearances. He turned on the shower, hottest he could stand (more out of habit than comfort) and stepped under the spray, humming to himself. He could technically miracle himself clean, but he preferred to see the evidence of their nights before it left him. Properly mourn its loss, though he knew he’d have to do the same the next day and the next- and so on forever. He let himself smile at the thought of forever. He nearly jumped when he felt arms encircle his middle, before relaxing when he tilted his head back and saw his beloved angel.  
“I missed you”, was mumbled into his neck. He turned around, letting his hands rest on Aziraphale’s chest, slipping them down to his hips as he kissed him sweetly on the lips.  
“Maybe you should have woken with me. angel,” he murmured, but knew he was heard anyway, “prolly wouldn’t kill you to not be such a hedonist.”  
“In your own words, my dear,” Aziraphale yawned widely, his jaw cracking, he pulled the demon closer to him by his slender hips, “where is the fun in that?”  
Crowley only smiled, pushing the angel under the water so they’d at least be clean when they stepped out. He took his time, though. Making sure to tenderly scrub every inch of the skin in front of him- twice as well as more give a head massage rather than just washing. Once he deemed the angel clean, he snapped his fingers, turning off the water and pulled them both out. He pulled Aziraphale’s only towel from where it hung and dried his angel off best he could without a miracle before drying himself off with one.  
“C’mon, Angel, let’s go get dressed and I’ll make you some breakfast,”  
“Dear boy,” Aziraphale runs his fingers through Crowley’s hair, down his neck and linger on his collar bone, “Is there any reason we could not… forgo clothes this morning? After all, it is just us, for once.”  
Crowley only hummed, sighing in regret as he stepped away from Aziraphale’s gentle touch- silently wishing he could bask in it forever.  
“Brats are visiting later, ‘prolly shouldn’t scar them with seeing all this,” He gestured to himself, “they’d never come over again.’  
“I doubt they’d be ‘scared’, dear boy, besides, wouldn’t you be happy with that?” Aziraphale challenged as he snapped and clothed both of them.  
“Hnk, but you like their visits, Angel.”  
Aziraphale hummed “That is true..”  
Crowley tried his best not to seem proud that he’d won that morning, as he made his way to the kitchen. He hummed as he pulled things out and began preparing their breakfast. After not-megeddon he had picked up cooking, wanting to see Aziraphale’s lovely expressions in their own private space. He had gotten pretty good, if he chose to brag (which he did), he could make so many things now. This morning, however, he simply chose to stick to crepes as The Antichrist and the others would be over within a couple of hours.  
He made their breakfast in a comfortable (near) silence as Aziraphale made coffee (and cocoa) and watched him flit around their kitchen. The angel had tried to cook once, keyword being tried. He nearly burned down their cottage making toast. Both him and Crowley had agreed it would be a good idea for him to stay out of the way.  
Crowley’s humming swelled in volume as he continued cooking, by the time he finished making all the crepes he was singing, letting himself get carried away in the music as Aziraphale swayed along, enjoying the other’s calming voice.  
“...I've got a tight grip on reality,  
But I can't let go of what's in front of me here.  
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up.  
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream. “ He let the song trail off as he set down their plates.  
“My dear, I thought the only music you listened to was that Queen.”  
“I heard one of the brats playing it and it stuck.” He replied with the air of someone who was not only lying but knew that the other person knew that they were lying. “just enjoy your breakfast, angel.”  
Aziraphale ate, while Crowley picked at his, pushing it towards the angel when his plate emptied.  
“Angel, how much attention do you pay to human traditions?” Crowley asked when Aziraphale finished, and then without giving him a chance to answer, “The brats have been asking me when I’ll do this, so I ought to before they get here” He knelt, pulling a small box from his impossible pants, “would you maybe want to get married, the human way?”


End file.
